


The Unexpected

by Flowersamurai



Category: Avengers, Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:52:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowersamurai/pseuds/Flowersamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Romanov has never been in love and uses sex as a tool. But then the unexpected happens, in the form of Happy Hogan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've never seen a Happy/Natasha fanfic before so I thought I'd write one :)

There was a satisfying thwack sound as Harold Hogan's back crashed onto the floor in the centre of the boxing ring. Natasha held him there for a second , her legs were suffocatingly tight around his next. She could hear Pepper and Tony gasping in astonishment as she smoothly rolled to her feet and made her way to the edge of the ring. Happy muttered something about slipping and it was all Natasha could do to stop herself hitting him again.   
Her demeanour was calm as she asked Tony to complete the paperwork.   
Misogynist pigs. She thought as she strode from the room, her expression blank as a slate.   
The trip from the training room to the basement car park was longer then Natasha would have liked. She wanted to run but it would be very unprofessional. Natasha hated how men always assumed she was a delicate little flower. She loathed it more then anything. It was the one thing that would cause her professional act to slip.   
Her car beeped across the parking lot as she pressed the unlock button. Her hand was on the door handle when she heard him running across the parking lot.   
Natasha closed her eyes and chanted to herself Control, control, I am in control.   
“Wait, Natalie!” Happy called from behind her. He ran headlong towards her, slowing just in time to avoid running her down.   
Natasha rolled her eyes and turned to slowly face the sweaty, out of breath man behind her.   
He was still wearing the ridiculous boxing get up, the stomach padding made him look even pudgier then he really was. His chest heaved and he hunched over, hands on his knees.   
“You... what you just did... was... amazing,” he managed to push the words out between pants.   
That threw her a little. She had expected anger, or arrogance. She had expected him to tell her that it was a lucky break.   
“Well fuck... I need to... work out... more,” he was still panting but he managed a small laugh.   
Natasha felt the corner of her mouth curl up. She patted his back.  
“Stand up straight, hands behind your head. Breath in threw your nose and out threw your mouth”.   
Happy immediately obeyed and within a minute his breathing was close to normal.   
“Sorry about what I said before, about the boxing,” he looked directly into her eyes as he said it and she had to look away, because the sincerity in that look frightened her.   
“Don't worry about it,” she murmured, still playing the mild mannered legal rep.   
“I wouldn't usually say things like that, but I guess I'm not used to the any of the women around Tony having half a brain let alone being able to defend themselves. Except for Ms Potts, of course.  
And I just had to do a half hour with Tony himself. The guys brilliant but he can be an real wanker sometimes,” Happy looked away from her as he rambled away.   
Natasha felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. “He certainly does have a unique character doesn't he,” Happy snorted at that and Natasha let out a sighing laugh. “And I am well aware of the company Mr Stark keeps”.   
Happy nodded. “Look I feel terrible about what I said, let me make it up to you. I'll buy you dinner”.   
“That's really not necessary,” Natasha began to shake her head, but couldn't quite manage it, when she saw the vulnerability and slight hopelessness in his eyes. He expected her to say no. Because she was beautiful, and that's what all the beautiful ones did. He was just Stark's driver, and assistant. He was a bit overweight and average looking. They all said no, without fail, because they were in love with his boss.   
“You can choose the place. I can get into any restaurant in New York. It'll just be dinner, no strings attached. To make up for me being such an ass,” he searched her face, and the plain honesty in his expression was what cracked her.   
“Okay, are you free Friday night?” Some part of herself sat in stunned disbelief, What are you doing? She asked herself.   
“Sure, absolutely. Where do you want to go?” He was beaming now. It was a beautiful smile and Natasha felt the warmth of it on the outside of her ice cold heart.   
“You decide, not anywhere fancy. Something simple. You can pick me up at 6:30,” Natasha despised big restaurants. Too many people and too few exits.   
She reached into her car and pulled out a pen and notebook. She jotted down the address of the apartment S.H.I.E.L.D was renting for her, and the number for the cell phone they had given her, then pushed to piece of paper into Happy's hand.   
“Don't be late,” she said as she let a small smile slip onto her lips.   
Happy smiled back. “Don't worry, I won't be. See you Friday”.   
“See you then,” Natasha watched as he turned and strode back across the parking lot. What am I doing? She asked herself. This is normal. It will help my cover. Just two work colleagues having a casual dinner. People do it all the time.   
She climbed into her car but before she could close the door the sound of Happy whistling reached her ears. She thought once more of the look of undiluted relief and joy on his face when she had agreed, and knew she was lying to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

The knife flickered threw the air to land in the table with a firm thunk. Tick, tick, tick. The clock read 6:23pm. It was Friday night, and Natasha was going crazy waiting for her date to arrive. Not a date she told herself for the millionth time.   
She had been ready since around six. At five thirty she had showered and shaved. She had then dried, brushed and styled her hair. The flowing red curls were high maintenance, particularly since her hair was naturally straight. Next she had done her make up. Nothing to overboard, but enough to emphasise her natural beauty. She had then gone about strapping a pair of small throwing knives to her lower back and a small gun to her thigh.   
Lastly she had put on her dress. Every piece of clothing in her wardrobe was new, courtesy of Fury's lackeys. She had settled for a casual dress. It was sort of retro, with a collar and buttons from the bust to the bottom hem. The bodice gently hugged her torso down to about the waist then flared gently into a wide loose skirt. The dress was black with green trim which complemented her eyes. She had chosen the dress for the skirt, which was loose enough to easily conceal the weapons she was carrying. It also meant that she could fight easily in it. It concealed her weapons nicely. The skirt was the ideal length, long enough that the bottom of her thigh holster wouldn't show, but short enough that it wouldn't tangle her legs.   
Of course she didn't expect to be in a fight. But years of working on the streets and undercover had taught Natasha the importance of practical clothing. A bad outfit choice could mean life and death in a fight. If you couldn't pull you weapon in time, or you tripped on some ridiculous skirt you were dead.   
This was why she always carried a weapon. Because it was better to have one and not need it, then to be caught unprepared.   
Natasha hopped lightly across the room. Left foot arm chair, right foot coffee table, jump and roll to where the dining table was tipped unceremoniously on it's side. She pulls the knife out then turns in a tight arc to slash a long line across the table. The knife twirls threw the air and lands in the door of the kitchen. The gun at her thigh, the sawn-off under her couch, the pair of handguns in the kitchen all make her itch to shoot something. But the walls of her room were relatively thin and it would upset the neighbours to no end.  
There was a quite knock on the door, which made Natasha halt mid-roll then practically sprinted to the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.   
Happy stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets.   
He looked different from usual. Natasha had only ever seen him in a suit or his boxing outfit. But not tonight. He was wearing jeans and a pale blue button down shirt. A brown leather jacket topped the ensemble. It was so normal and uncomplicated that Natasha couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her face.   
“Hello, Happy,” she said, allowing her smile to grow.  
“Evening Natalie. I hope I'm not to early,” he smiled gently at her.   
“Not at all, shall we go?”   
“Sure,” Natasha grabbed her bag from the coffee table, slipped on her shoes and they were out the door.   
They made small talk in the elevator on the way to the car park. Happy was incredibly polite, opening and closing the car door for her. He hopped into the drivers seat and pulled smoothly out of the building.   
“Do you always drive yourself?” Natasha asked as Happy negotiated his was through the steady stream of traffic.   
He laughed gently. “Yeah, I guess I do. After driving Tony around all day I can't stand someone else driving. Plus I hate cabs. They smell and drive badly,” Natasha laughed a little at that.  
“Yeah, you definitely smell better then a cabby,” she glanced over in time to see Happy's face flush pink.   
Natasha felt a blush lick her cheeks and glanced away. She had been on plenty of dates before, she had flirted an innumerable amount of times. But this was different. She had never been on a real, proper date. She had been paid to schmooze with politicians and eaten caviar with mob bosses. Her body had been used by more men then she cared to remember.   
But now here she was. This was a proper date. She had read it in the way Happy stood a little closer then necessary in the elevator and the glances he stole at her when he thought she wasn't watching. It was in the way her heart stuttered when she had heard him knock on her door and the way her stomach twisted when their hands brushed in the car park.  
It was utterly unnerving.   
Happy cleared his throat. “So, what would you like for dinner”.  
Natasha glanced at him in surprise. “You didn't make reservations?”  
“No,” he said shaking his head. “I have something better in mind. So do you like Chinese or Mexican? I know a really good pasta joint if you like pasta,” Happy was openly smiling now. He was clearly pleased with himself and the fact that he had caught her off guard.   
“Pasta sounds great,” watching Happy watch her made Natasha smile as well. It was infectious.   
“Okay,” Happy switched lanes and shortly afterwards he pulled up in front of a small pasta joint. It was tucked down a side street between a chain clothing shop and a pharmacy.   
“After you, ma’am,” Happy said as he helped her out of the car.   
The menu was small, but everything smelled great.   
Natasha stood close to Happy. “What are you having?”   
“Ravioli,” the answer was almost instant. It surprised Natasha.  
“You eat here often?”  
Happy chuckled. “I'm single and I work irregular hours, I eat out a lot,” she nodded in understanding.  
“I think I'll have the fettuccine,” Natasha tugged him forward and they ordered.   
Soon enough they had their dinner and were back in the car.   
“Where to now?” she asked as Happy navigated his way through the busy streets.   
“It's a surprise,” he smiled as he said it.   
It soon became apparent though, as Central Park loomed before them.  
“The park?” Natasha raised an eyebrow as Happy opened the door for her.  
“Well I thought that you've probably been to a lot of restaurants, with a lot of men and that maybe it would be nice to do something different. So I thought maybe a picnic,” as he said it he hefted a basket out of the trunk.   
“You assume that I've dated a lot of men?” Natasha arched an eyebrow at him.   
“Well.... ah, I didn't mean. Um it's just that”.  
“Don't worry about it,” Natasha dismissed it with a wave of her hand and started walking. “You're not wrong though. I have dated a lot of men. But then again I thought this was just dinner”.  
Happy hurried to catch up with her. “Uh yeah it is”.  
Natasha pushed him, “Lighten up, I'm happy to call this the first date”.  
“First date?” Happy stopped walking and stared at her.   
“Well as long as you don't muck up the rest of the night, then yeah”. Natasha smirked at him then kept walking.   
Eventually they settled in the middle of a grass oval. Happy produced a blanket and a hand held lantern then began laying out their dinner.   
It was pleasant sitting on the lawn under the stars. Happy made great company. The conversation was easy, he didn't push too far and easily steered the the conversation away from topics she wanted to avoid.   
After they'd eaten they strolled arm in arm through the park. This time of night there wasn't a soul to be seen, which was somewhat a novelty living in New York.   
When Natasha shivered a little from the chill night air Happy took his jacket and placed it onto her shoulders. It smelt musty, warm and sweet.   
“Oh, you don't need to,” Natasha protested, more for show.   
“Nonsense,” he replied, and refused to take the jacket back.  
“But now you'll be cold,” she argued.   
Happy put his arm around her shoulders and replied. “Not if I have you to keep me warm”.  
By the time they made it back to the car Natasha's arm was around his waist and Happy's hand trailed comfortably along her upper arm.   
Natasha laughed noticeably more in the return car trip. Happy had a simple sense of humour, which matched hers remarkably well. His broad grin sat almost perpetually on his face, which elicited a return smile (though much more reserved) from Natasha.   
In the elevator they stood close together, their fingers just barely touching.  
Then suddenly they were back at her flat.   
Natasha unlocked the door, then turned to the man at her side.   
“I had a lot of fun tonight. Thank you,” she tried to sound as sincere as possible. It was impossible to convey how much this simple date had meant to her, but Natasha had to try.   
She looked up into Happy's eyes which crinkled around the edges as he smiled.   
“Yeah, me to. You're a fascinating person Natalie. I'd love to get to know you better,” he took her small hand in his giant one.   
“Yes,” Natasha nodded, trying not to cringe at the use of her fake name. “We should do this again”.  
Happy leaned forward and she prepared to be kissed, her lips beginning to pucker out of habit.   
But instead he placed a small, soft kiss on her forehead.   
The air rushed into her lungs as she tried not to gasp. Natasha new how to deal with sex. It was a weapon, a bribe, a bargaining tool. When it was just sex she could manipulate it and twist it to suit her means.   
But that small kiss was so intimate and delicate it cracked her shell. It was a single long deep crack that ran straight to her chest. It broke past the deep dark chamber in which she locked her heart and squeezed it, sending tremors through her entire being.   
After a second Happy stepped back and dropped her hand.   
“I guess I'll see you at work,” he coughed and she could see a blush creep over him.   
“Yes, I'll see you then,” Natasha was to shocked to be embarrassed, so she simply watched Happy's retreating back.   
When he was gone she let herself into the flat.   
She stripped down and climbed butt-naked into bed. There she lay for a long while, staring at the ceiling.   
The rational part of herself insisted that this was a very bad idea. She should go back to being part of Stark's mob of women. It was a better cover, simpler.   
But there was another part of herself which shouted at her not to let go. It was a small part of her mind which was usually suppressed. A very small sliver that was connected directly to her heart. And no matter how hard she tried, it would not be silenced.


	3. Chapter 3

There were more dates after that. Dinner at a small Asian buffet restaurant. One evening they went to the theatre. When Happy had a day off he took her to a museum.  
It was nice. The simplicity of it.   
Natasha was surprised though, that Happy never made a move. He held her hand, and hugged her. But not once did he try to kiss her.   
In fact the first kiss came in a corridor in Stark's tower.   
Natasha had been helping Pepper in her office, going through her diary and making sure she signed on the dotted lines. Happy escorted Stark in just as Natasha gathered her papers. They exchanged a small smile as they passed each other. A few minutes later Happy joined her in the hall outside the office. Natasha rolled her eyes as raised voices echoed behind them. Happy shook his head and they walked away quickly. There was no point getting involved in an argument between Pepper and Tony.   
“Are you free tomorrow?” Natasha asked as she gently bumped Happy's side. They walked close enough that their hands brushed. It was surprisingly intimate, the way their fingers bent out so they twisted together as they brushed.   
“Sure, what did you have in mind,” Happy smiled gently as their fingers caught together before breaking apart as they swayed away from each other.   
“Well I thought that we could have dinner, and then maybe you could kiss me,” Natasha walked a few more steps before turning to see Happy, stopped in his tracks.   
“What?” She asked at his slightly shocked expression.   
“You want me to kiss you?” Happy breathed.   
“Well yes. I know you are being chivalrous, but I think it's high time you kissed me,” Natasha glanced up from the floor long enough to see him smirk.   
Happy glanced up and down the quite hallway before striding across the few steps separating them.  
Gently, as all his motions were, Happy took her face in his hands. He tilted her chin upwards and slowly, pressed their lips together.   
Natasha barely closed her eyes before the pressure on her lips was gone.   
“Happy now?” he grinned down at her.   
“Certainly,” she smiled, even as a blush crept across her cheeks.   
They turned and continued down the hall and threw the depths of the building to the parking lot.   
Happy waited for her to pull out her keys and toss her things onto the passenger seat of the car.   
“I'll pick you up to 6.30 tomorrow?” Happy asked.   
“Sure,” Natasha smiled and nodded.   
Happy took her hand and raised it, grazing her knuckles with his lips. Then he was gone, just a retreating back, a silhouette against the rows of cars.


	4. Chapter 4

There were many more dates, and luncheons. They ate dinner at each others flats. They took strolls in the park and watched trashy late night television after staying late at work.   
They stole kisses in the shadows of trees, and under the eaves of building. They locked themselves in a disused office and kissed greedily against the door. Late at night they snogged like guilty teenagers on the couch, all sloppy kisses and clumsy hands. 

“I have this weekend off,” Happy mentioned, between mouthfuls of their favourite Indian take away.   
Natasha looked up from where she sat cross legged across the table from him.   
“A whole weekend?” Natasha mused. “How did you manage that?”  
“The boss is planning to be holed up in the lab all weekend and Pepper is taking the time off. So they don't need me”.  
“Silly them,” Natasha smiled.   
Happy cleared his throat. “You could. Stay over if you like?” He looked away and ploughed into his food.   
Natasha reached across the table to take his hand. “I'd love to,” she smiled into his eyes, before taking a sensual bite of a piece of chicken.   
Happy laughed and kicked her foot under the table. 

It was Friday night and Natasha shifted from foot to foot outside Happy's door. Nervousness settled in her gut like a weight.   
You're being ridiculous, she thought to herself.   
She took on long deep breath in and out before lifting her hand and knocking gently on the door.   
Happy opened it immediately. Anticipation and excited nervousness played across his soft features, making his eyes sparkle and his lips quirk.   
“Are you going to invite me in?” Natasha asked, greatly reassured to see her nerves reflected in Happy.   
He opened the door wider, so she could step past.   
She kissed him gently on the way past, trailing her hand down his arm to catch his hand in her own.   
An enticing aroma drifted from the kitchen as she dumped her bag on the end of the sofa.   
“I'm cooking chicken pie, my mothers own recipe. I hope you like it,” Happy explained as she led him through the apartment.   
“It smells delicious,” Natasha grinned when Happy crowded her against the edge of the cupboard. He kissed her lips, then the underside of her jaw, her neck, trailing his lips along her collarbone, before returning to press against her slightly open mouth.   
“Are you sure you're hungry for dinner?” Natasha asked with a smirk.   
Happy cleared his throat and chuckled before stepping back and moving to check the pie. 

Dinner was pleasant, as things always were with Happy.  
They played footsies under the table, and laughed much too loudly. Happy smiled constantly and Natasha felt herself smiling back, much more then she was used to.   
There was a frightfully decadent chocolate cheesecake for desert, which they stuffed themselves with. Natasha helped Happy stack the dishes in the sink before collapsing on the coach to nurse her food baby. Happy joined her momentarily, claiming that dishes could wait till the morning.   
They cuddled together for awhile, watching television. Happy made fun of whatever show they watched, making Natasha swat him, though she laughed at every joke.   
It was so damn domestic that it nearly broke her heart.   
She couldn't name one time where she had done anything like this.   
Certainly she had cuddled with clients or marks, but that was her job and she had never thought twice about it.   
But now, sitting between Happy's legs, her head resting on his chest, Natasha thought she might cry. Instead, she picked up his hand, where it rested on her stomach and kissed his palm.   
Happy nuzzled the top of her head, pressed a kiss into her hair.   
Natasha turned and manoeuvred herself so she was sitting sideways in his lap. She laced her arms around his neck and kissed him gently.   
Happy kissed her back eagerly, though he let her set the pace, as he always did.   
She trailed a lazy hand down his chest and over his belly. He was muscular, but not in the same way Clint or many of her other sexual partners were. Happy didn't have abs, he was developing the rounded figure of a man approaching middle age. But Natasha liked it. She was sick of hard, sharp edges. She craved something softer, and she knew Happy could give it to her.   
Natasha slid her hands under the edge of the tee and back up, over bare skin. Happy obediently lifted his arms, so she could pull the shirt over his head.   
Happy's hand slid up the leg of her jeans to rest on her ass, while the other tangled in her hair, holding her in place.  
Natasha removed her hands from Happy long enough to pull her own shirt over her head and discard it on the floor.   
Happy chuckled when she began eagerly unzipping his pants.   
“Should we move this to the bedroom?” he asked.   
Natasha's stomach dropped, but she nodded and stood, picking her way across the floor to Happy's room.   
Before they were through the door, they were kissing again. Happy coaxed her mouth open and their tongues danced in elaborate patterns.   
Natasha pushed at Happy's pants, palming his growing erection threw the thin fabric of his briefs.   
Happy let out a gasp, before making quick work of her own jeans. They pulled off their underwear so they stood stark naked. Happy stepped back, breaking their kiss, and let his eyes roam over her.   
That gaze was what made her feel naked, the way he looked like he was memorising her every feature.   
“You are the most singular woman I have ever met Natalia,” he stepped back up to her, taking her in his arms. “And you are beautiful”.  
Natasha clung to Happy as he lowered her onto the bed.   
Sex with Happy was so very different from anything she has ever experienced.   
He kissed her all over. Starting at the inside of her ankle, the underneath of her knee, the soft skin of her hip. He gently sucked on each nipple, until they were firm. He kissed her between her thighs, letting his tongue gently explore her.   
Then when she is ready he produces a condom from God knows where.   
He crawls back over her so they were nose to nose.   
Happy covers her lips with hers as he gently enters her. The gasp together, and pause a moment.   
Then looking into her eyes Happy begins to move. It's a slow rhythm, and so very gentle.   
Natasha grabs onto Happy. She grips his shoulders so tightly she is sure she leaves bruises.   
And at some point she begins to cry. Natasha doesn't even realise until Happy begins kissing tears from her cheeks, whispering “I'm here, I'm here,” like a mantra.   
When she comes it creeps over her, blanketing her as she cries out, clutching onto Happy and crying out his name.   
Her orgasm sets off his, and he arches his back and moans quietly into her neck.   
They collapse together onto the bed and Happy carefully removes the condom before cuddling into Natasha's back. They lie there for the longest time, breathing together, Happy laying the occasional gentle kiss on her shoulder.   
Just as she drifts to sleep Natasha decides that they didn't just have sex. Instead, for the very first time in her life, she has made love.


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha knows she is in too deep as soon as she leaves Happy's apartment. Your cover is just that, a cover. But then again Happy had never been just a cover. Even now, she can't help thinking about the way it felt with his lips tracing the arch of her foot or the curve of her breast. She thinks of the way he praised her, sighing words like gorgeous and elegant against her skin.   
She skips a little when she remembers the way he kissed her neck in the morning. The way he cooked her scrambled eggs for breakfast. Because with Happy it's not just the sex, it's all the other little things. His hand tracing over her hip when they wash up. The way he kisses behind her ear in the shower. But mostly it's the way he makes her smile. The lame jokes he tells, and the cute little faces he pulls.   
Natasha knows she is in trouble, and it's only a matter of time before it catches up to her. 

 

Natasha could sense him as soon as she opened the door. It was the faint smell of metal and leather, mixed with the beer undoubtedly held in his hand.   
“Hello Clint,” she said as calmly as she could.   
“God damn it Tash, how do you always know?” She flicked on the light to find him sprawled across the couch. He cradled a beer as predicted, his bow and quiver sat casually on the table next to him.   
She smirked at him, closing the door casually behind herself. “It's cause you smell so go damn awful,” it was a lie and they both knew it. The smell of him drove her crazy.   
“Fury sent me here to check up on you,” Clint smirked, rubbing it in. He knew she hated being treated like a child.   
“How touching, that he wants to make sure his best agent is alright,” this was the Hawk's weakness. He had bought her to S.H.E.I.L.D only to be surpassed by her.   
Clint grimaced, then smiled. “Sit down, it's been a long time since we saw each other”.  
Natasha retrieved a bottle of vodka from the cabinet then sat in the arm chair, facing Clint.   
“Why are you here Clint?” She caught his eye as she tipped back her glass. It burnt a little on the way down, but it was a pleasant feeling.   
He smiled as he took a swig of beer. “I heard you're fucking one of Stark's men”.   
Natasha kept her face as blank as possible, but the shock ricochetted threw her.   
“It's good for my cover,” she shrugged. “I heard you were fucking a base agent in Detroit”.   
Clint's eyes turned hard. “That's different,” his tone was hard.   
Natasha rolled her eyes. “How is that any different?”  
“Because that was three nights, it was temporary. This has been going on for weeks,” his eyes were angry.   
“Please, Clint neither of us are particularly faithful. What's the big deal?” Natasha tried her best to keep herself composed. It hurt to talk about her relationship with Happy like it was nothing. To play it off like it didn't matter. But if Clint knew the truth it would make everything so much worse.   
Clint stood up and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet.   
“Tash, I don't know who this guy is, but I don't want you forgetting what we have”, he stepped close to her and the smell of him was intoxicating. It made Natasha's head spin, clouding her judgement and erasing her control.   
“Clint, this really isn't necessary. You know I will always be yours,” her breathing was shallow as he ran his hands down her sides.  
“Oh but I think it is,” he breathed into her neck as he hitched her dress high over her thighs, waist, head. She stood there in her knickers as he trailed his hands lazily over her soft pale skin.   
His hands were so rough. She had always believed they were soft until Happy had touched her. Now the callouses on his fingers scraped over her. His touch was hard and his thumb was abrasive as he pressed it into the tough scar tissue just right of her navel.   
The round scar was a tight reddish knot, unlike most of her other scars which were pale white.   
“We have history Tash. I know you better then anyone else on this bloody planet. I saved your life and you've saved mine. We belong to each other”.  
He kissed her then, his lips tearing at hers with aggression she both craved and despised.   
She wanted to push back, but instead her hands latched onto him. She tore at his jacket and shirt. The sight of his bare skin and the feeling of it against her own made her breathing shallow.   
Clint grabbed her and pushed her hard against the wall but before he could trap her Natasha spun the around and slammed him back. His head snapped backwards into the corner of one of the shelves and Natasha palmed his growing erection threw his pants. Clint groaned in pleasure and pain and the mixture was heady.   
She quickly unfastened his pants and pushed them down below his waist, freeing his swelling cock.  
Natasha made a grab for it but he was faster and shoved her backwards with enough force to send her stumbling. She rolled so she was on her knees as he stalked her, a predatory glint in his eye.   
Clint was only a step away when she lunged forward and took him in her mouth. His dick certainly wasn't huge, but god all-mighty the things he could do with it.   
Her teeth and tongue alternatively ran up and down his length. She didn't bite but the pressure was enough to make Clint groan and thrust greedily.  
Her tongue swirled over the head of his dick, circling slowly, teasing. He grabbed the back of her head in one hand and thrust hard, so she was deep throating. Anyone else would have gagged, but Natasha was used to this.   
Suddenly he withdrew and slapped her hard across the face. She groaned, not entirely in pain.   
Clint fell to his knees and shoved her back. He quickly removed her gun and knives, the way another man would remove a bra. Natasha shoved off her knickers at the same time, leaving them both very naked.   
Clint grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide and shoved his nose into the small fragrant patch of pubic hair. He licked and suckled, eliciting groan after groan. All of a sudden his fingers were inside her. Two rough fingers shoved as deep as they would go. The fullness was so shocking Natasha gasped. Clint thrust and twisted and the motion was so violent it made her eyes water, but she moaned and thrust her hips hard onto his fingers.   
With difficulty Natasha reached down and grabbed Clint's balls in one hand. She kneaded them hard, then dug her nails in. He gasped loudly and shoved her away.   
“Fuck Tash,” he flipped her onto her belly then shoved her knees forward so her ass was in the air. “That was very naughty,” his hands gently caressed the soft skin of her rear. “You have such a fine ass,” his fingers teased at her ass hole, one slipping in past the tight ring of muscle. This made her moan loudly. Then all of a sudden pain blossomed across her right ass cheek as Clint slapped it hard. She could feel it welting already.   
Without thinking Natasha's foot snapped out behind her. She felt it connect with Clint's nose and heard the crunch of bone breaking.   
The noise that erupted from Clint's mouth was not entirely human. It was the sound of sharp agony mixed with a criminal amount of lust.   
She flipped onto her back and wrapped her legs around his waist.   
“Fuck me Clint, I'm so fucking ready,” she ached so badly for that cock inside her, she could feel the moisture between her legs.   
Clint happily obliged, kneeling with his hands on her hips. He pulled her ass in the air and carefully lined up before entering her.   
It wasn't tender or slow. They didn't make love, they fucked. He thrust hard and fast, in and out. Natasha braced herself against the armchair behind her and pushed forward against his throbbing cock. Clint leaned forward and bit her hard on the neck. She felt her skin break and a high pitched keening escaped he throat.   
He bit her again on her collar bone, shoulder, breast. It was hard, but not enough to draw blood, like the first.   
Natasha reached up and scraped her nails hard over his chest, leaving long red scratches, some tearing the skin over the hard muscles from his neck to navel.   
When they finally came it was long and hard. Natasha screamed his name, while Clint moaned and chanted hers.   
When it was over they slumped side by side on the living room floor. The smell of sweat, blood and sex was a heady, intoxicating combination.   
Eventually their breathing evened and Clint climbed to his feet. He dressed quickly, dropping the used condom on the table then using his shirt to staunch his bleeding nose. Then without looking back he exited the room.   
As soon as the door shut a sob ripped itself from her mouth. She dragged herself to her knees, tears streaming down her face.   
The bedroom was to far so she sprawled naked on her couch. The bottle of vodka made it's way into her hand.   
She began to drink, gulp after gulp. A pleasant numbness washed over her. The more she drank the less she fretted. What she had done. What Happy would think. How she could possibly explain how fucked up she was. How god damn much it would hurt to lose him.   
Natasha drank until she couldn't lift the bottle any more. Then she lay staring at the blood and cum where it mingled on the carpet until unconsciousness claimed her.


	6. Chapter 6

Natasha rolled over and groaned.  
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she swore, because that was all she could do.  
She sat up and immediately regretted it. There was a splitting pain in her head, she certainly deserved an A-grade hangover.  
There was a sudden feeling of disorientation as she realised she was in her bed.  
Fuck. This meant that either Clint finally decided not to be a dick and stay after they had sex. Or Happy was there.  
“Hey, you're up?” Happy wandered threw the door. He was still in his work clothes, the shirt un- tucked, sleeves rolled up and shoes tossed into the corner of Natasha's room.  
He made his way over to the bed and sat gently on the edge.  
“Happy, I am so...” Natasha started to apologise but Happy cut her off with his hand on her mouth.  
“Shh, no apologies, no excuses,” he smoothed her hair and let his hand cup the side of her face.  
“Let's get you cleaned up,” she leaned into his hand and let him lift her out of bed and carry her into the bathroom.  
Natasha felt like a child when she was sat on the toilet and Happy began to run the shower. She was still naked, so he plunked her straight under the hot water. After a second he joined her, wrapping his arms around her. Happy washed her clean, softly massaging away the aches in her muscles. The water in the bottom of the shower tinged pink for a second as the blood was washed from her body. Natasha was glad to find that apparently most of it was Clint's. It was only the bite on her neck that had bled, and that was nicely scabbed over. She did however have a myriad of colourful hickeys dotting her body. There was also a welt on her ass that looked suspiciously close to a hand print. When Happy saw that his face dropped and a frown furrowed his eyebrows. Natasha quickly turned away so he couldn't see it.  
She ached inside from the Hawk's vicious assault. That was the worst part, because it was a constant reminder of what they had done. The feeling of betrayal physically sickened her as she sagged against Happy and she began to cry.  
They stood there for along time and Happy held her tightly. He ran his hands over her hair, arms, back. His gentle touch was what washed away the feeling of Clint's rough hands. The soft carress of his fingers was what helped her to stop crying.  
Natasha stood in the shower as Happy dried himself then wrapped her in a fluffy towel.  
He carefully dried her down then wrapped her in a blanket and dumped her on the lounge.  
She barely cringed as he applied antiseptic to the bite on her neck.  
Natasha glanced at the floor where she and Clint had fucked. It was clean and slightly damp. It felt like getting punched in the gut.  
“Happy,” she began again.  
“You don't have to tell me,” he didn't look at her, just started to gently dry her hair.  
“When did you get here?” She at least had to find out that much.  
He sighed, but continued to slowly dry her hair. “I finished work at about 11, and came straight here. I knocked, but you didn't answer. I figured you were asleep so I let myself in. Then I found you. You were naked, unconscious and bleeding on your couch. So I cleaned you up as much as possible and put you to bed. I've been watching you all night. I wasn't sure you wouldn't choke yourself on your own vomit. You drank a lot of that bottle last night”.  
He didn't mention the other things, but it was all there in his voice.  
“What's the time now?” Natasha was horrified. She had tried to keep Happy separate from the shit storm that was her normal life, and now it was crashing down on him.  
“It's about 10.30. Don't worry, I called in sick today. I also told Pepper that you are sick,” he had seen the protestations about to burst from her and cut them off.  
Natasha met Happy's eyes, but quickly looked away as the guilt washed over her again. Silence settled over them, suffocating as a blanket on a too hot night.  
Natasha opened her mouth and let a breath rush in and out, if only to feel something other then the self loathing eating her away piece by piece.  
“I owe you an explanation,” she finally whispered.  
“You fucking think?”  
Natasha's head shot up at the anger in Happy's voice. His hands were clenched in his lap, his jaw tight and his eyes hard.  
She had seen a lot of angry men before. But Happy was the most terrifying. Because he was so gentle, so sweet and kind. The contradiction was like a slap in the face.  
“I thought you were too good to be true Natalia. I couldn't believe it when you said yes to that first date. Then you continued saying yes, and I wanted to believe it. You gradually convinced me, that you were real. I thought I'd finally met a honest to God, beautiful woman. Someone who was nice, and wasn't just playing me. Then I turn up tonight and, Jesus Christ, I don't know what to think. I find you naked on your lounge, bleeding and drunk out of your mind. I thought you'd been raped, then I found that fucking condom and I just don't know what the fuck to think,” he trails off. Suddenly he is up, pacing the room and avoiding looking at her.  
Natasha starts crying, the tears silently leaking down her cheeks.  
“I didn't want this to happen.” Natasha whispers. “I thought I could protect you from my past, but it always fucking ruins everything.”  
Happy stops in front of her and she looks into his eyes. The hurt and anger and pity she sees there sends a deep stab of grief threw her.  
“Will you let me explain?” Natasha says, staring down at his feet.  
Happy lets out a sigh that seems filled with an immeasurable pain. But none the less he sits beside her.  
Tash opens her mouth to explain but comes to a stop. She can't explain Clint without explaining S.H.E.I.L.D, and she cant explain S.H.E.I.L.D without telling him about her past.  
Happy sighs, “Start from the beginning”.  
“My real name is Natasha Romanov, and I'm Russian...”  
The words are halting and she pauses often. But as she continues the momentum grows and she cant stop.  
Natasha tells him about growing up in the gangs. She tells him about drugs she smuggled. She tells him about the man twice her age who took her virginity, and the other men after that who taught her to use sex as a weapon. She tells him about pickpocketing and learning to break into buildings. She tells him about the first man she killed, and the many after that.  
Then she tells him about Clint, about her salvation. Natasha knows her explanation on this point is hollow. She realises that isn't an excuse for the sex. But as she talks Happy moves closer. He takes her hand, then puts his arm around her shoulders. In the end she is curled up in his lap, his hands stroking her leg, arm, back. He plants kisses on the top of he head and wipes her tears away as she weeps.  
“I'm sorry,” he whispers when she is done.  
This forces a bark of a laugh out of her mouth. “You're sorry?” Natasha says in a bemused voice. “I have sex with another man and then you clean me up and say you're sorry,” she shakes her head. “You should have walked out by now,” she whispers, as she nuzzles into his neck, scared he will leave.  
Happy is silent for awhile, just holding her. “I'm not leaving,” he breathes into her hair.  
Then louder, as if affirming his promise. “I'm not leaving, because it's about time you have a decent man in your life”.  
Fresh tears run down her cheeks.  
“I think I love you Happy,” she chokes out, her heart aching.  
He sighs out a laugh. “I think I love you too Natasha”.


	7. Chapter 7

In some ways their relationship doesn't change. They still eat dinner, and Happy comes round after work. They go out on dates and Happy cooks for her when he has time off. Only now he calls her by her real name when they are alone. He is also more tender and gentle with her, if that is even possible. He tells her how beautiful she is, and kisses her cheek and forehead where before he'd kiss her lips.   
When they make love Happy takes his time, worshipping her in every way he can. It's as if he wants to make right all the wrongs of her past. She knows he could never get close to repairing the rift inside her. The hurt is too deep, the wounds too jagged and broken. But it does soothe the hurt. She is happier with him. Her past seems to fade, instead of holding her in a living nightmare of memories. It seems like yesterdays dream, fading by the second. 

Clint doesn't visit again, but his presence is palatable. His scent lingers in her apartment when she comes home. Sometimes a book will lay open on the desk, abandoned as if in haste or the corner of her mat will be folded over, freshly kicked by a larger foot then hers. When he is really upset with her he leaves an empty beer bottle on the table.   
Natasha knows he is trying to intimidate her, but she doesn't yield. If she gives into his bullying now it will never end.   
So instead she flips the corner of the mat back in place, puts the books back on the shelf and throws the bottles in the bin.


End file.
